More
by Ruchi
Summary: The War is nearing its end as Hermione Granger is killed and Ron Weasley commits suicide. Grieving for his lost friend, Harry begins battle with the Dark Lord. All the while, a gray eyed man runs for his life, leaving his scarlett haired lover in his bed.


A/N: Hello my lovely readers. I just wanted to say that I haven't written a Harry Potter fan fiction in maybe a year, year and a half. So please forgive me if you find a sign of lack of experience. Though I stopped writing, I continued reading and finally found that I wanted to write again. Yet, you'll find a difference in this story if any of you have read my past works (which I honestly doubt J ). My old fanfics used to be a bit more lighthearted… but since then, I've grown, matured, and now it's time for my writing to do so and for our characters to face reality beyond a simply romance. I now bring to you a tale where a man shall fight and a woman shall restrain her desires, where many shall fall, but the unknown shall rise in glory and seek vengeance for their fallen brothers. A tale of an era where light shall follow, but only after a longevity marked with distress, longing, and betrayal. Thus, without further ado, I bring you "More."

**More**

_Prologue: A Lone Refuge _

Thunder shook the very walls of the remnants of the mansion. She felt the floorboards shake under her feet as she rushed towards the window shutters which had so easily surrendered to the howling winds of the storm. It had been thus for the past three days since she had taken refuge in this once magnificent sanctuary.

When the Deatheaters had first begun their pursuit, she had run to the Order for protection, finding the house of Grimwald Place left in ashes. Dumbledore, himself, had been hiding within the compound. It was apparent Deatheaters had raided the ancient Black mansion, and if even the great Albus Dumbledore had unsuccessfully fended off mere servants of the Dark Lord, no man existed who held the power needed to defeat their king. Her worst dreams were certainly become reality - The War was coming to its end, possibly with the imminent demise of the One all had believed would be their salvation. The-Boy-Who-Lived was undoubtedly facing his last minutes of life.

She could not hold back the tears which fell as her legs took off into the abandoned streets. All worlds, magical and muggle, had been subject to this war for the past 13 months. It had begun Christmas Day of her sixth year at Hogwarts. None had truly known what perversion coursed through You-Know-Who's mind until that night. The night Hermione Granger lost her life and innocence as she was brutally raped and murdered by the hands of Lord Voldemort, himself. Ginny had fled the moment she laid eyes on Hermione's body and heard the sobs of her brother, Ron Weasley, as he wept over his lost love's corpse. He had struggled against the grips of five Deatheaters as he witnessed his fiancé's murder.

Ron Weasley committed suicide that night.

Seconds before she had fled, Ginny had watched Harry attack the Dark Lord as he finally broke through the circle of Deatheaters surrounding Hermione's body. Within seconds, a fierce duel was taking place as dodged curses filled the skies. Ginny did not look back as she heard both simultaneously scream "Avada Kedavra."

Ginny was forced out of her thoughts as the clock struck 2 somewhere in the house. The storm had died down and so she dared to venture to another part of the house. When it was legally proven that the Malfoy's alliegance was to the Dark Lord, an unforgettable battle had taken place through these halls as Lucius fought to retain his freedom. He failed miserably as a dozen aurors overtook him. Narcissa had given in prior to the instigation of the battle, and had watched quietly from the outskirts of their estate.

Yet, what of the heir to the Malfoy fortune? Ginny banished her tears as she allowed her thoughts to rest on the blonde haired coward. The fool had fled the night Hermione had taken her last breath. Leaving her amidst dreams in his bed at the first signs of danger. He had bedded her that night. Nay, had made love to her that night.

The summer prior to her sixth year, Draco had confided in Dumbledore, confessing his hatred towards the Dark Lord. Trusting him, the headmaster allowed Draco to take harbor in the Order's headquarters. There he and Ginny had gotten past the initial derogatory remarks and formed a relationship none could describe correctly. One of friendship where words were not needed, and one of lovers who needed only to look in the other's eyes and find satisfaction.

The months progressed into the school year, and the night after the Halloween Ball Ginny first let him take her to his bed. No. No, she would not think of him. How could she think about that bastard? He had left her without as much as a goodbye when she was lying in his bed moments following their climax. He had deceived her beyond redemption. Yet how could she not think of him when his very scent still lingered here? How could she ignore remembrance of his lips upon hers when every corner of this abode reminded her of their times together? How could she forget him when her compassion and love for him was entwined with her very soul? So much so that his childhood home had been the only place which she believed could serve as sanctuary… or was it that she needed the mansion because it was all she had left of _him_?

Answers were not abundant in times of terror and sorrow, this she had learned her first year of Hogwarts, and so she left the questions racing through her mind unrequited. All she consciously allowed herself to acknowledge was that she was a refugee within this forsaken estate. Yet, her strength faltered time and time again as she found herself thinking of her lost dragon.

They had "fucked" in almost every corner of this mansion as Narcissa had busied herself with her garden parties or socials. Although, it hadn't mattered, alluding Narcissa was no hardship. She hadn't remained as "alert," to put it mildly, after Lucius's downfall. Thus, the mansion had become a setting for their times together. Draco and Ginny's rendezvous often times lasted days as they relished in one another's passion. Sex could not describe what they shared, heaven could not be explained in such simple terms. But, he had not taken her within these walls after he had said those three words, "I love you," seemingly changing what they shared into a legendary bond which would later be taken as example for protagonists of fictional epics to come. Yet, looking back on their times together within these walls, she believed that even then their relationship was something more than of a casual lover.

No, do not think of him. She could not let her mind drift any further. He was gone, and that was reality. There was no need to live in the past and allow herself remembrance of which would never come again. The clock struck half past three as she made her way to bed. Unknown to her was the figure following silently through the shadows.


End file.
